The best card in Netrunner #3: MCA Informant
At its best, there is a terrible and wonderful intimacy about Netrunner. This is, after all, a game of invasion: since a typical Runner deck contains no victory points, they have to go and get them from the Corp.
So they run. They invade. They get into the Corp's stuff and rummage around – they steal some things, trash others, and even when they find something they can't steal or trash, they get to look at it. This is annoying in a game sense, since hidden information is powerful. But it's not just literal intrusion, it's also – weirdly, brilliantly – emotional.
That's my Hunter Seeker! You weren't supposed to know about that! It was going to be a surprise!
By way of recompense, the Corp can mess with the Runner's stuff. They can damage cards out of their grip, sometimes fatally. They can knock installed cards off the table. They can lay traps. If they've managed to stick a tag, they can trash resources.
Or they can play an MCA Informant.
As a card, MCA Informant is kind of cute and kind of clunky. It's expensive, at 4 credits, and it's terminal, so the Runner always has a chance to respond. And it's something of a silver bullet, since in practice it generally reads:
The Runner pays 2 credits to trash Aaron Marrón, Film Critic, or maybe Professional Contacts, unless they have another one in hand, in which case they just install that.
As a gesture, though. As a statement. It's glorious. First there's the sheer physical joy of leaning over into the Runner's stuff and plonking the thing down. It's rude, it's disrespectful, and it’s delightfully personal.
Kati Jones? She works for me now. Oh yes. All your besties are belong to us.
There’s more, though. Part of the joy of Netrunner is the meshing of mechanics and story: it's the former that pushes the game along, and gets you from the start to the end, but it's the latter that keeps the whole thing oiled and running smoothly, that makes the journey a joy. And MCA Informant is the two working in perfect harmony.
Because when you lean over and plonk it down on your friend's Tri-Maf Contact, they groan, and that's funny. But you aren't just sharing that moment; you're also sharing the knowledge that at the same instant, in some collectively imagined universe, Andromeda's just discovered that somebody she trusted, somebody she worked with, maybe even somebody she loved, has sold her out. And she knows that she has to tear apart her plans and cut them out of her life, before they bring everything tumbling down around her. And that double, layered feeling, the sense that by playing a game you are also directing an adventure, just the two of you ... that's kind of wonderful.